


Kisses and Colors

by Karita Wyr (karitawyr)



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Challenge Response, First Kiss, Kissing, M/M, POV First Person, Qui-Gon POV, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-04-28
Updated: 2000-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-13 18:04:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karitawyr/pseuds/Karita%20Wyr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obi asks Qui to evaluate how he kisses</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kisses and Colors

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: A while back, Mac issued a kissing only challenge. Here is my response...finally.

I realized a year ago that Obi-Wan Kenobi is an artist. For a long time, I viewed everything in shades of gray. Being a Jedi, perhaps I should say shades of brown and cream. Most everything in my life was dull and lifeless, except Obi-Wan, my light. It should be no surprise then, that it was he who taught me to see color again in a most unexpected way. Unexpected, but entirely welcome nonetheless. Very welcome, indeed.

***

It had been about three weeks since we had been off Coruscant. Both Obi-Wan and I were benefiting from our small break, relaxing, catching up with friends, as well as preparing for future missions. This particular evening Obi-Wan left our quarters immediately after an early dinner. The sun had been down several hours when he returned.

All the doors in the Temple operate on a repulsor-glide system. It should have been impossible to slam one, yet my reading on field medicine was interrupted by what sounded like a distinct slam of the door to the hall.

I glanced up from my datapad to see my apprentice stalking into the living area. He was muttering under his breath as he hung his robe on its hook.

"Is something disturbing you, Obi-Wan?" I asked with concern. It was highly unusual to see him so distraught, especially as he had been merely spending the evening with his friends.

Obi-Wan paced in front of the couch, making a crisp turn at each end of the rug. Finally he stopped and glared at me. "They accused me of putting too much emphasis on kissing."

Admittedly, I was confused. "Your friends?"

He nodded and began pacing again. "We were just talking and laughing and a discussion of the various, uhm, seduction techniques of certain Padawans came up. Specifically, kissing. I believe kissing is an art, not just a lead up to the 'good stuff.' A good kissing session can be as good as sex."

I raised an eyebrow at that. Now I was curious. He knew it and continued his explanation while gesturing dramatically. My eyes were drawn to his hands. He had mentioned art and I noticed for the first that he had an artist's hands. Strong hands with long expressive fingers perfect for wielding a paintbrush or molding clay, much more capable of a delicate touch than my own.

"When you are kissing someone you are truly communing with them, breathing them in, holding them close. It...it can be so sweet, so perfect...it almost makes my heart ache. I know that sounds a bit ridiculous and I am not explaining it very well, but I know I am not wrong in this, Master. And I would appreciate your opinion."

Nothing unusual about that, my Padawan wanted my opinion, albeit on a rather unorthodox topic. "Are you suggesting an observation of your technique?" I asked.

"No, I am suggesting a demonstration. On you."

I imagine that my jaw dropped, but I recovered quickly. Obi-Wan gave no indication he witnessed my lapse. I had been teasing him, but he apparently was serious. "Why do you ask this of me?" I wondered.

He looked down at his perfectly polished boot tips for a few moments then back up to my eyes, holding my gaze with fierce determination. "Because I trust you. I trust you to be honest with me, without being brutally so."

I should have leapt at the opportunity, yet I hesitated. It would be so bittersweet to know his kisses, to learn what he tasted like, to feel his warmth against me, and to know it was impermanent. There would be no repeat demonstration, just empty nights, empty arms, and a mind full of jealous thoughts about with whom he might be sharing himself. If this was what he offered me, then this was what I should take, and be happy to have.

Obi-Wan was watching me intently. The weak light from my reading lap reflected hope and just a tiny bit of nervous fear of rejection in his blue-gray eyes. Look at him, I told myself. How could you reject him? How could you deny him this? How could you deny yourself?

Finally, I said as calmly as I could manage despite my pounding heart, "I would be honored, Obi-Wan, to evaluate how you kiss."

The tension left his shoulders and he beamed at me. All the dark places in the room and in myself were suddenly full of light and warmth, full of the joy that was Obi-Wan.

"Wonderful," he said. "Give me a minute, I need to get something." Then he disappeared into his room. He returned quickly with a short chair. I recognized it as the one he kept for the young initiates he tutored in quantum equations. He placed it in the middle of the room then snared me with a determined look. "I have one rule. I am in charge. I lead. Beyond that, you may respond as you choose. Agreed?"

"Certainly," I said quickly. He could have demanded I stand on one foot while juggling our lit lightsabers and I would have accepted his terms. Of course, I was not going to inform him of that.

He indicated the chair. "Good. Now sit."

I sat, but my puzzlement must have shown clearly on my face.

"You are simply too tall for this to work with us both standing. The point is for me to kiss you. And that will be more easily managed like this." He then straddled my legs, settled into my lap, taking part of his weight on his feet.

Ah, Obi-Wan, always concerned for my comfort. And seated as he was, he actually had to look down at me slightly. That was different. I found that I like it. Obi-wan was in charge, in command, and I liked it.

For long minutes we simply sat, adjusting to one another's presence. Outwardly I suppose I appeared calm. Finding my center was impossible. No, I knew where my center was, and he was perched in my lap staring at me with those beautifully expressive eyes. Watching me with amusement glittering in their sea depths. It would not do for him to know how eager I was. My hands were clenched at my sides. Unsure of what to do with them, I slowly uncurled my fingers and rested them lightly against his waist.

Finally, I felt a whisper brush against my ear. "Are you ready?" it asked in Obi-Wan's voice. It had to have been Obi-Wan's voice, but there was a note in it I had not heard before. Desire, hot and demanding. Perhaps, that was my wishful thinking.

"Begin whenever you wish," I stated formally, hoping to maintain my Masterly façade.

Warm fingers explored my face, brushing softly across my temple at the hairline, followed by the softest touch of silky lips, tracing a tingling line along my forehead. Then he opened his mental shields and showed me what he felt in the touch. Violet dusk, quiet and almost still, but with a tremor of expectancy. I opened my eyes and saw Obi-Wan's throat before me. His pulse had begun to throb more rapidly beneath the pale smooth skin. Oh, how I longed to touch my lips to that spot, to feel his lifebeat beneath them, to stroke that patch of skin with my tongue. I felt uncomfortably warm and shifted slightly in my chair, tightening my grip on Obi-Wan.

My movements did not go unnoticed. Obi-Wan pulled back from me slightly and smiled knowingly. So sure he seemed of his place and his power over me. If he only knew how easily he could own me. How I longed to succumb to his touch.

As his hands came to rest on my shoulders, my eyes fluttered closed. Then I saw shimmering blue in my mind's eye. Again I felt his lips mapping my skin, marking me from my right temple, across my brow, and to my left temple. Then they skimmed down to my ear. His tongue dipped in and swirled along the contours, outlining the shape. A sharp press of teeth on the lobe forced a hiss of pleasure from me. More rapture followed when none to gently that sensitized lobe was sucked into his hot mouth and suckled ever so sweetly.

Those barely there kisses had been the calm before the storm. Like pleasantly drifting on sunlit seas. And then the storm hit and I was drowning, gasping for breath, desperately grasping for something to hold onto. He had lulled me into a false sense of security and now I was swamped, tossed overboard, lost and vulnerable. He released my heated flesh and nudged it gently with his nose before placing a delicate kiss where the ear met the side of my neck. He remained there and I could feel him breathing, feel him reaching for... for control? Could this be affecting him as much as it was me? I dared not hope too much and I hardly had time to ponder this line of thinking as his talented mouth moved against me again.

Kisses were splayed across my cheek then a brief peck to the bump on the bridge of my nose and more kisses on the other cheek. Now visions of green, of fields and meadows and gentle breezes through the trees. Obi-Wan rested his forehead against mine and placed another delicate kiss on my nose. And another. Delicious languor flowed from him into me. I murmured my appreciation of his ministrations.

A soft cheek nuzzled along my jawline and I felt a burble of suppressed laughter within Obi-Wan. "Your beard tickles. I do not recall having kissed anyone with a beard before. I rather like the feeling," he confessed. I was inordinately pleased that my extraordinarily handsome apprentice found this to his liking.

Even after the sweet torture of his previous explorations, I was still unprepared for the touch of his lips against mine. I shuddered when they fluttered briefly against mine. The picture he showed me this time was of bright yellow sunshine and ripe orange fruit. Warmth and sweetness. I felt him smile.

"Did you like that?"

Denying my urge to seal my mouth over his, I merely nodded. I had promised him that he would be in control of this demonstration, and no matter how much it pained me to wait, I would wait. Impatiently. My eyes remained closed, my breathing as even as I could make it.

Again that all too brief touch, but before I could resign myself to his teasing, he licked along the line of my lips. They parted easily and my lower lip was drawn into his mouth, nibbled on, stroked with his tongue and released. He pressed his chest more firmly against mine, wiggling slightly in my lap. I gasped and he took advantage, slipping his tongue into my mouth easily. I surrendered to his invasion, as reds of passion gave way to searing white heat. The deepest part of the flame, the purest center that burns away flesh and reason with intense incendiary pleasure.

My tongue stroked into his mouth, lapping gently at the inside of his lower lip. He moaned deep in his throat, squirming to get closer. I held on to what was for this moment mine, sliding my hands from his waist to cup his ass and crush him closer.

No longer was Obi-Wan kissing me; we were kissing one another. Long, deep, slow kisses that seemed to last for eons. It was bliss; it was agony. How was I supposed to give this up? How could I look him in the face, see those lips that now met mine so hungrily and not want this again?

Obi-Wan broke the kiss at last and buried his face in my neck, sucking in deep breaths. Then he spoke, so quietly I could barely hear him, "Oh, Master, if you were my canvas I would paint your body with kisses. I would never kiss another."

My heart leapt with joy, though my brain still tried to deny it. I was hallucinating, delusional. I most certainly had imagined he had offered me my heart's desire.

I nudged him gingerly, urging him to look at me. He did not. His head drooped until his chin touched his chest and I felt the gentle pressure of his thoughts slip away from mine.

"Obi-Wan," I said softly, entreating him to look up. When he still did not, I reached out and took hold of his chin. His blue-gray eyes were wide and concerned. His face was flushed and his lips were wet from our kisses. He tried to scramble out of my lap, but I held him tight about the middle.

"Please let me go, Master. This was a mistake, an error in judgement. I hope that you can forget this happened," he pleaded.

"Forget it happened? You would have me erase from my memory one of the most exquisite pleasures I have ever experienced?"

He stopped trying to escape from my embrace and stared at me in wonder. If possible those luminous eyes widened even further. His forehead crinkled. He tilted his head and grinned. "So, just for my edification. What are you trying to say?"

Like the lovesick, besotted fool I was, I grinned back at him. "What I am trying to say, my dear Padawan, is that I would like to take you up on your offer."

"And what offer was that?"

"I believe it was something along the lines of never kissing anyone but me again."

He blinked rapidly several times, as if searching his memory. "Ah, that offer. There is a stipulation."

By this point there was no mistaking the love pouring from him. He had opened his heart and his mind to me again and there they all were, the colors of his passion, his devotion, his respect...all for me. I could agree to any stipulation he might put forth. "And what is this stipulation?" I asked.

"That you never kiss anyone but me either."

I most heartily agreed to that. And we sealed our bargain with a kiss. Well, several kisses, but who is counting?


End file.
